The Legacy
by Brenth204
Summary: Although they died, their legacy lived on. Through their children, their grandchildren, and all the people they had affected. Their story is one that needs to be told, and who better to tell it than a man who witnessed it firsthand?
1. Prologue

**A/N:**** Hello, everyone. This is going to be a fairly long fic- Although I'm not sure quite how long. I hope the prologue isn't too confusing. Just in case it is, I'll try to explain things with an author's note at the bottom. I think this is a pretty original idea, so please let me know what you think. I'm posting this prologue as a preview of the story- the next chapter will probably not come for a while. But put it on story alert if you like it... because it only gets better from here! Enjoy~**

**Disclaimer- I do not own Bones.**

* * *

Prologue

_Present Day…_

He had been expecting the call for a while, now. Parker Booth was no idiot.

They were well into their eighties, after all. Far past the ages everyone had guessed they would live. He had expected one of them to pass away ever since his father developed Alzheimer's the year before. Since his stepmother's arthritis had become nearly debilitating. But what was said in the call is what surprised him most.

"Agent Booth?" asked a sympathetic voice from over the receiver. "You may want to sit down, sir."

The tall, strong man ignored the suggestion, instead rising from his chair and running his fingers through his wavy brown hair.

"Your parents were found in their home early this morning. I'm sorry, but they've passed on."

Parker had braced himself for the news that one of them had died. But the fact that they were both gone, ripped away from him at the same time was… incomprehensible.

"How did they die?" he demanded, his hand falling limply to his side. This action caused his wife of 18 years to glance up worriedly, her green eyes searching her husband's face for some sort of wordless explanation.

"There was a gas leak in their home, sir. I know this is probably not of much comfort, but they were both asleep when it happened."

Parker swallowed the lump in his throat, but nodded at his wife to reassure her he was okay.

"Did they feel any pain?" he croaked, his voice thick with emotion.

"None at all. They looked… peaceful. Died in each other's arms."

Parker smiled, despite the grief he felt for his beloved parents. "That's good. They wouldn't have wanted it any other way."

* * *

Saturday mornings in the Hodgins household were lazy. This seemed to be the only day of the week that the rambunctious twins would sleep in, and their parents took advantage of that. So when the phone rang at 8 o'clock in the morning, Olivia Hodgins groaned in complaint.

"You get it," she grumbled to her husband.

He snored in response, so she rolled over and tried to ignore it, as well. But by the sixth ring, she was getting annoyed. Olivia thumped him over the head with her pillow, which caused him to stir.

"Get it," she snapped irritably, before pulling the covers back over her head and sighing.

Her husband sat up and rubbed his eyes, before groggily groping for the phone. His bleary eyes read the caller ID, and he was surprised that his brother-in-law was calling so early.

"Parker?" he slurred, before kicking off the covers and sliding his legs off the bed.

"Hey, Nate," said a tired voice.

"You're up early."

"Well I certainly wish I was calling with better news," Parker sighed heavily. "Can I talk to my sister?"

"Of course," Nate said quickly, before nudging his wife.

"Tell him to call back later," she mumbled, oblivious to the dire news that awaited her.

"Olivia," her husband pleaded, and he prodded her again.

She uncovered her face and blinked at him, her playful smile vanishing as soon as she saw the concerned look on his face. She sat up immediately, and brushed a lock of coffee-colored hair out of her face.

"Parker? What's wrong? Do we have a case?"

"No, Olivia," he said gently, before inhaling deeply. "I just got a call from the town coroner. Liv… Mom and Dad passed away."

* * *

The rest of the day was spent informing family members, and sifting through old memories.

Special Agent Parker Booth's living room was crowded with people he held close to him. The twins followed their parents around, teary-eyed and forlorn. His own two children sat on the couch, his oldest daughter crying softly and his son staring blankly at the wall. His wife, Emily, never left his side- her hand always placed tenderly on his shoulder, as a constant reminder that he hadn't lost everything.

His half-sister sat numbly on the couch, her eyes cold and distant as she tried desperately to compartmentalize. Nate patted her hand comfortingly, and she offered up a half-smile that sent shivers down Parker's back. She looked identical to her mother in that split-second.

He turned away from Olivia finally, to focus on the elderly man whom sat quietly in the corner. Nate's father, and a long-time family friend.

"Can I get you anything, Jack?" Parker asked softly.

"Get me a bottle of scotch, and I'll manage," the old man muttered bitterly.

"I understand this must be hard for you," Parker said, before pulling up a chair next to Hodgins' wheelchair.

The old man glanced up at Parker, his blue eyes twinkling as usual.

"Harder than you might think, boy. But not for the _reasons_ you might think. I don't pity Booth and Bren. They went out the way every madly in love couple wishes to. In each others arms."

His eyes became unfocused, as if recalling a distant memory. Just as Parker was about to ask him if he was all right, Hodgins chuckled softly.

"You never could tear those two apart. Not even God could separate them, in the end."

Parker laughed a little as well, knowing this was ironically true. They fell silent, as Olivia walked silently across the room- a tissue in hand.

"How are you two holding up?" she asked quietly, as if the frail man before her might crumble if she spoke any louder.

"We're fine," Parker answered quickly, wanting to comfort his little sister. "Just talking, that's all."

"Stand up next to your sister, young man," Hodgins ordered suddenly.

Olivia and Parker shared a sideways glance, and so he persisted. "C'mon, humor an old man. Since you won't bring me any damn scotch."

Olivia and her brother both laughed a little, and Parker slowly stood up next to her. Hodgins' eyes lit up, and a warm, nostalgic look spread across his face.

"Look at you two," he said in disbelief, "I feel like I'm back in the lab, with the young Booth and Brennan. Not only do you look so much like them, but you followed in their footsteps as well. Special Agent Parker Booth, and Dr. Olivia Joy Hodgins, Forensic Anthropologist."

The old man's eyes fluttered shut, and he inhaled deeply as he let the nostalgia overcome him. "They were so proud of you two."

Parker smiled warmly, and Olivia nodded, her eyes welling up with tears she had been working so hard to hold back.

"Jack, would you mind doing Nate and I a favor?" she asked, after clearing her throat. "We were thinking… and we concluded that the twins are old enough to hear the story. They deserve to know, and we both agreed that you would be the best to tell it. With us filling in the grey areas, of course."

"Chelsea and Alex would probably like to hear it, too," Parker added, referring to his own two children.

Dr. Jack Hodgins glanced up at the two, and a cheeky grin spread across his face.

"I would love to."

* * *

"Why do we have to listen to this, Dad?" sixteen-year-old Chelsea asked her father for what seemed like the millionth time. She couldn't understand what could be so fascinating about her grandparents that she hadn't heard before.

They were a famous crime-fighting duo; she got that. The decorated war veteran, and the best-selling author with the genius IQ. So why did everyone insist on rubbing it in that they were gone?

"Shut up Chels. I wanna hear what Uncle Jack has to say," Alex grumbled to his older sister.

"So do we," the twins said in unison.

Hodgins turned to face them, and smiled warmly. His grandson, 'Little Jack', was nearly a carbon copy of his grandfather. With that bright red, curly hair, a cheeky grin, and those sparkling blue eyes… it made the old man swell with pride. And then, there was Josie.

Hodgins smiled sadly- it made his heart jump a little every time he saw her. Josie looked so similar to his Angela, his sweet Angela that he missed so dearly.

Once the entire group of people had congregated in the living room, nestled in on the couch, Hodgins wheeled his chair into the center of the room. He stared at the family he had helped build, and smiled. The four best friends from the Jeffersonian had left behind quite a legacy.

"This is the story of Dr. Temperance Brennan, and Special Agent Seeley Booth," he began dramatically, his hands folded neatly across his lap.

"A story of two of the most courageous people alive, who shared one common fear. The fear of losing each other."

The former conspiracy theorist glanced around the room, and was pleased to see that all the children where paying close attention, even the twelve-year-old twins. Parker and Olivia sat next to each other, and they each smiled at Hodgins encouragingly. This comforted him. They could fill in the details old age had caused him to lose.

"Their story begins, on a park bench, 40 years ago…"

* * *

**A/N: Well, what do you think? Confused? Booth and Brennan had a daughter named Olivia, and she married Angela and Hodgins' son, Nate. Parker married a woman named Emily.**

**Basically, Hodgins is retelling the story of B&B to his grandchildren and Parker's children. Next chapter, we'll start from where Season Five left off, and after that the rest of the story is AU. **

**If you have time, please let me know what you thought, with a review! :)**


	2. A Promise

**A/N:**** Wow! Thanks for all the reviews, story alerts, and favorites. I wasn't planning on updating for a couple of days, but with a response like that I can't wait! :) **

**By the way, this chapter is a little different from the upcoming ones. This is the airport scene, from the Season Five finale. So yes, I've used the dialogue from it- but the rest of the story will be my own writing. Next chapter we get to the good stuff! :) I hope you enjoy~**

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A Promise

_"Strangers passing by would have thought they were toasting their coffee to success, or perhaps to themselves. Anything else would have been just as well. But as the beautiful young women nodded at her companion, and they lifted their cups, something bigger was happening. It signified something bigger than the both of them. That day, they toasted to change, and everything that came with it. And in doing so, they unknowingly reached the turning point in their relationship."_

**_40 years ago…_**

"Okay, I made you this chart of all the poisonous reptiles, and insects; what they look like, how to avoid them, and what to do if you get stung, or bitten, so…"

Brennan nodded gratefully, a smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Dr. Hodgins," she said softly. She glanced down thoughtfully, as if wondering if she should say what she said next. "I love you, too."

He flinched, and leaned back a little, stunned. "Wow."

Seeing the shocked expression on his face, she felt the need to explain herself. "Booth informed me that the proffering of overly solicitous advice, is indicative of love."

He smiled warmly, and nodded ever so slightly. "Wow," he repeated, this time in a softer voice.

He backed away, allowing his new wife to step forward and hug her best friend.

"Angela," Brennan protested, as she was pulled into a warm hug.

"Oh, Sweetie," Angela crooned, before slowly releasing her. "I hope you find something that… changes the entire notion of what it means to be human," said Angela.

Brennan nodded, and said in all seriousness, "I will."

One last hug, and the two best friends parted reluctantly; Angela rejoining her husband.

"Dr. Brennan, we really have to go," Daisy reminded quickly, before gathering up her things expectantly.

"Yes," Brennan agreed, before clearing her throat pointedly and bending over to grab her things as well.

As she gathered them, though, she couldn't help but cast a few hopeful, longing glances over her shoulder. She moved noticeably slower, trying to delay her departure as long as possible. She needed to see him again, for what may have very well been the last time.

So when she saw a flash of an army uniform, her gaze lingered. People bustling by had hidden him from view, but the one glimpse of him through the crowd had set her at ease. He paused a hundred yards away, fiddling with his uniform hat and staring at her uncertainly.

Her face softened immediately, and she smiled sadly at him.

"Dr. Brennan?" Daisy called out, surprised her mentor wasn't following her by now.

Brennan ignored her, which was surprisingly easy for her. _He_ was here now, and suddenly nobody else in the airport- or the world- mattered.

She took her suitcase and began striding briskly over to him.

"Oh my God," Cam said in disbelief, as she realized Booth had disobeyed orders, just to come see his partner off.

Booth knew he'd have repercussions from the higher-ups when he returned to the base, but suddenly that didn't matter anymore. He casually moved toward her, but his heart was aching with the realization that this could possibly be the last time he ever saw her.

"Sorry, couldn't get a pass," he explained as they narrowed the gap between them. "I had to sneak off the base to come say goodbye."

To her, this may have seemed a little rash. But in reality, they both knew he would have done anything for her. No matter what the consequences.

She was speechless as she listened, not knowing what to say to him. What could she say to _that_?

"Listen Bones," he began, before inching closer to add emphasis to his next statement. "You gotta be really careful in that Indonesian jungle, okay?"

To him, his concern seemed justified. But to her, it was unnecessary. Just the resurfacing of his over-protective side.

"Booth, in a week you're going to a war zone," she said softly, before looking up into his eyes. "Please don't be a hero."

He nodded half-heartedly, his jaw set. He wasn't sure if this was a promise he could keep.

She saw his hesitation, and so she repeated herself. "Please… just don't be you," she pleaded.

His heart broke a little as he inched ever closer. For a split-second in time, she thought he was going to kiss her. Oh, how she wished he would.

And yet, she silently begged him not to.

She had resisted him once. But her walls were crumbling fast, and she didn't know how much longer she could fend him off. This was why she needed the escape. In the Maluku Islands, she would be too busy to spend countless self-destructive hours thinking about him, and what they had become. She had a year to not only gain perspective, but to rebuild her walls.

But if he leaned in to kiss her now, she wouldn't be able to leave.

Her mind raced as he leaned in, but to her relief, he glanced down. She followed suit, and saw that his hand was extended. She lifted hers as well, and felt herself relax as his large hand enveloped hers.

Unaware of her inner turmoil, Booth had settled for holding her hand as he continued. Kissing would have shattered her emotional stability, which he had already done once before. Even hugging was out of the question; if he had wrapped her in his arms, Booth knew he would never be able to let her go.

So he instead gripped her hand tightly, to let her know he was still there for her. Even when they were far apart, he would always be with her.

Maybe not physically, but in other very important ways that a rational scientist such as herself wouldn't be able to comprehend.

"One year from today, we meet, at the reflecting pool at the mall. Right by the-"

"Coffee cart," she finished for him, with a small smile. She nodded slightly, and added, "I know. One year from today."

He started to say what needed so badly to be said. That he loved her endlessly, and that no amount of time apart would change that concrete fact. But he instantly stopped himself, and decided against it. Seeley Booth was not selfish by any means, and he knew that she could only be hurt by that statement. No matter how much he would benefit from getting that off his chest, it wasn't worth it.

Nothing could make him willingly hurt her.

So he instead released her hand after a final squeeze, and reluctantly turned, and walked away without another word. Brennan watched him leave, a longing expression on her face and tears in her eyes. But she knew she had a plane to catch. And the longer she thought about Booth, the less inclined she felt to leave. So she turned away as well, and lengthened her strides.

Neither of them got far, before longing got the better of them.

Brennan hesitated slightly, not wanting him to know she was having regrets. If she turned around now, she was sure that was exactly what he would conclude. Still… what were the odds that he would be having regrets, as well?

Brennan indulged herself, and turned her head back in his direction. And, to her pleasant surprise, he was staring back at her as well. This gave her a small boost of confidence, Brennan decided, as she smiled once more at him and continued to her flight. It reminded her, gently, that some things don't seem to change.

It gave her hope, that he'd keep his promise, and meet her at that damned coffee cart in exactly one year.


	3. Always Enough

**A/N:**** Thank you for all of the story alerts! There were a lot of those, and it's nice to know you want to see where this story is headed. But... if you're taking the time to add this to story alert, would it be too much to ask that you drop me a line- tell me how I'm doing? A great big thanks to those who reviewed! **

**Oh, and I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get to you. I was going to upload it yesterday... but my dog died, and I wasn't really in the mood to do anything. :/ **

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Always Enough

_Present Day..._

"You're kidding me!" Josie exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief. "You mean they _actually_ left each other for an entire year? I thought this was a love story, Grandpa!"

Jack Hodgins chuckled bemusedly, his eyes twinkling as he explained to his twelve-year-old granddaughter. "Not your typical love story, Josie, but just wait. An epic love story such as this needs to be told right- so be patient. We'll skip ahead, to when they met a year later, on the exact day they promised…"

**_

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_**

39 years ago…

He wasn't sure what to expect as he exited his cab, his belongings in tow. His army uniform caught many curious glances from people in the crowd, but Booth ignored them.

He wasn't one to accept sympathy. Or pity, for that matter.

The owner of the coffee cart thought she had recognized him, perhaps. His once reddish-brown hair was now peppered with grey, and his skin was much tanner- almost leathery in appearance. She couldn't be for certain it was him, until he smiled that tantalizing charm-smile, and greeted her.

"Margaret, right?"

She nodded and smiled back, but her heart sank a little. His smile seemed half-hearted; as if it pained him to put on a happy face at all. She was only human, and couldn't help but notice the army uniform he was wearing. It certainly explained a lot- he and his little girlfriend had been regulars, until about a year before when they dropped off the radar.

But she didn't ask- even when he ordered two coffees instead of one; one regular, and one with hazelnut creamer. She simply offered up a cheerful smile, and then studied him as he walked away.

Booth walked slowly to their favorite bench, his eyes darting hopefully around the milling crowd, in search of that person he had known so well. His hands shook a little as he waited, not from impatience, but out of anxiety. So much could change, in twelve months. He knew that now.

He looked down at his hands, with their numerous calluses, and he sighed. Booth was beginning to feel his age. Or, perhaps Afghanistan had just taken a heavy toll on him. Either way, he felt like crap.

He ran his fingers through his shorter, peppered hair, and groaned a little. More likely than anything else, he was probably worried. Worried that she had found her perspective, and she would quit the Jeffersonian. Worried he would be left without a partner.

Or, worse. Left with a partner... _anyone_, who wasn't her.

His beautiful, sweet, perfect Bones.

Face in his hands, Booth silently reflected on the conversation he had pieced together over the year away from home. There had been many nights where, in the hope of keeping his mind off the stressful situations at hand, he had focused on their reunion in the future. He had memorized a conversation in his head, which invariably ended with a confession of love on her end, and a passionate kiss shared between the two.

One that set his world on fire, and made him forget all the torture he had been through in his life for one blissful moment. One that made life worth living.

The kind of kiss he knew would only come from her.

"Booth?" called a small voice; hesitant, scared, and tender.

He lifted his head from his hands slowly, and his heart soared as he saw her.

Her hair was shorter, lighter in color, and she was a little tanner, but what worried him the most was that she had lost weight. Quite a bit, if his memory didn't fail him. But he rose to his feet anyway, momentarily pushing his concern to the side.

"Bones," he breathed, his hands shaking uselessly at his sides.

He'd had a planned conversation starter, sure. But her eyes, her scent… hell, just _seeing_ her after all this time was enough to make him forget his own name.

There had been a point when he'd thought he wouldn't live to see her again, after all.

Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly, but he noticed. She was hesitant to approach him, and only studied him from a distance.

There was no way for him to know how much being alone in the jungle had affected her. True- she had had her fellow anthropologists, but often they were out in the dig while she stayed in her tent. She had craved human contact, although she would never have admitted it to herself. And now, he was staring at her indecisively; like he wasn't sure if it was really her.

Booth painfully swallowed, fear seizing his gut as he stammered, "Y'know, Bones... it's okay to hug me."

It was the only invitation she needed.

Her eyes welled with tears, as she dropped her things and flung herself at him. He caught her in his arms, just as his heart caught in his chest.

Booth had to fight the urge to squeeze her very hard- she felt so fragile, so very frail in his grasp. Her fingers dug into his back as a few select tears streamed down her face, and she pulled him closer. He laid his head on hers, stroking her hair absentmindedly and shushing her; telling her it would be okay. That they were back together, and nothing else mattered.

He inhaled her intoxicating scent, and his eyes began to burn. But he wouldn't cry- no, he was too much of a man.

Booth did let out a shuddering sigh- one that expressed just as much emotion as her silent tears.

When she finally pulled away, all too soon, her makeup was slightly smudged. She wiped her eye nonchalantly with the back of her arm, before giving him a lopsided grin.

"You look like crap," she sputtered, her eyes twinkling playfully.

So much for that rehearsed conversation.

Booth would have laughed; had he not been fighting the urge to kiss her passionately, as he had in his daydreams. He instead smiled his brilliant charm-smile, and said, "It's good to be back."

This seemed to sum everything up for Brennan, and she nodded, before glancing down briefly. Booth suddenly remembered that he was furious with her, and handed her the other cup of coffee as he chastised her gently.

"Bones, what the hell happened to you? Don't you remember what I told you about eating enough? I swear, I let you out of my sight for a year…"

Her muffled laugh from around her coffee cup silenced him, as she shot him an exasperated look. "Booth, I'm fine. You don't need to treat me like a child."

He paused, not sure if he had overstepped their boundaries. Come to think of it, he was having a hard time remembering where they had drawn that damn line they constantly danced around in the first place.

"Although… I could go for lunch," she murmured, eliciting a boyish grin on his behalf.

And so, they finished their afternoon coffee, and began walking towards the diner they had missed so badly. Booth slipped his hand to her lower back, and she leaned her head on his right shoulder as they made their way down the street; luggage in tow, and army uniform drawing a lot of attention. But they didn't notice. Nobody else mattered, that afternoon.

Booth smiled warmly, his heart melting as she leaned in closer to him, as if searching for reassurance.

Sure- he had fantasized about a romantic reunion, filled with passionate kissing and confessions of the four letter word she seemed to avoid. Booth now realized, however, that things couldn't be more perfect. His hand at her back, her head resting on his shoulder…

Just being with her would _always_ be enough for him.

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**A/N:**** What did you think? Please let me know by clicking that button below; that is scientifically proven to make my day! ;)**


	4. The Way Things Change

**A/N: This took longer than it should have, but I hope you enjoy! :) **

**You may notice that we don't hear from Present Day Hodgins in this chapter. I hope none of you mind- but it seemed unnecessary to interrupt the story flow again so soon. We'll read about them a little bit more in the next chapter.**

* * *

The Way Things Change

**_39 years ago…_**

Brennan couldn't help but notice how much the year had changed him. The toll it had taken on him. As he escorted her to the diner, she had bit her lip indecisively.

The limp he had acquired suggested his foot was damaged. The way he carefully lifted his arm to hug her indicated a few broken ribs, over the course of the year.

Booth sat her down at their usual table, which seemed to have collected dust in their absence. The waitress seemed pleasantly surprised to see the return of her favorite regulars- and immediately knew what they both wanted. A cheeseburger for him, with a large order of fries, and a small bowl of salad for her.

It was times like these, that Brennan believed some things actually might _not_ change.

But then, she glanced up at Booth, and saw his distant gaze. The way his chocolate-brown eyes were unfocused, and the way his hands trembled slightly. She could read his body for physical injuries, that wasn't even slightly difficult. But she couldn't know what emotionally traumatic events he had encountered over in Afghanistan.

And a small part of her- the old Brennan emerging- didn't _want _to know. The part that would believe it was his fault for going over there in the first place; he had known the risks.

But the newer Brennan… she felt guilty. It wasn't necessarily rational, but she felt that if she had told him not to go- and had maybe stayed behind herself- then maybe he wouldn't be so distant and broken, and she wouldn't be sitting there wondering what the man she loved had been through.

Booth talked about his post, and about how all of the men he trained really seemed to like him. She noted carefully how dismissive he was on the subject- clearly there was something that had happened, that he wasn't willing to discuss.

Brennan spoke briefly about the significance of her findings- no matter how much she loved him, she knew her words would be wasted on him.

When their food came, the pair settled into a comfortable silence. Booth attacked his cheeseburger, while Brennan picked around her salad. Not because she wasn't hungry, but because she wanted him to act like her old Booth. The one that would force her to not only finish her entire salad, but also swallow down a few of his French fries. This was a craving that far surpassed her hunger.

It only took a few seconds longer than normal, before she heard him swallow, and then she felt his intense stare boring into her head. Metaphorically, of course.

Brennan purposefully picked an olive out of her salad, and then sighed heavily. When she finally glanced up, she saw Booth glaring at her disapprovingly.

She had to fight back a smile as she daintily folded her napkin, and cleared her throat before meeting his gaze again.

"What?" she asked nonchalantly; her face the perfect picture of innocence as she leaned back in the booth.

It secretly thrilled her to see him do something, _anything_, that reminded her of the good old days.

"You're not eating," he stated dryly, _his_ face the perfect picture of a concerned father.

"Well, I'm not really all that hungry-"

"It was your idea to come for lunch," he chided her gently, before pointing his unused fork at her accusingly. "Now, you're going to eat that salad, and we're splitting my fries. And then, afterwards, I'm ordering a slice of pie. And you're going to try it, and you're going to _like_ it."

Over the course of his lecture, his tone of voice had changed from fatherly to amused. Brennan hid her smile, before grumbling something about watching her figure just to annoy him further, and compliantly taking a bite of her salad.

He kept a stern look about his face as she chewed deliberately, but his eyes lit up when she finally swallowed.

"Thank you!" he chirped, his eyes twinkling briefly before he picked up his massive cheeseburger once more. "Now that you're done starving yourself, I can finish my lunch guilt-free."

They both chuckled a little at that, and Brennan even swiped a few of his fries as they talked and laughed like they had never been apart.

When the time came for cherry pie, Booth looked at her doubtfully- she'd never tried the pie before, so why would she now?

Brennan saw his telltale look, and rolled her eyes dramatically, before stabbing the slice of pie with her fork and looking at it disdainfully.

"You'll _love _it," he said teasingly in a sing-song voice.

Brennan glared at him, fought back the urge to stick her tongue out at him, and then daintily put the fork in her mouth. Booth watched her intently; almost expectantly.

Brennan chewed, swallowed, and was surprised by how good it actually tasted to her. So surprised, that her fork hovered over the slice of pie momentarily, before she glanced up at him. His tiny, bemused grin widening into his alluring smile as he leaned in closer, and taunted her.

"You _liked_ it, didn't you Bones?"

She rolled her eyes and leaned back, away from his goofy, yet charming grin.

"I have to admit, it was slightly less repulsive than previously anticipated."

Booth laughed, and went back to his pie. But then, to his surprise, her fork clanked against his, as she went in for another piece.

The triumphant smirk on his face said it all, as they shared the food together in another comfortable silence; the moment too perfect to spoil with words.

* * *

**A/N: Kinda short, I know- but it seemed fitting to end it there. Next chapter will be a lot longer, and we'll catch up with a few other characters. Please review- they're great motivation to get the next chapter written faster! :)**


	5. Pretty Girls

**A/N:**** Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are amazing. Unfortunately, school's starting soon for me, so my update times may be a bit erratic. This chapter's a little longer than the others, so I hope you enjoy! :)**

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Pretty Girls

_Present Day…_

"How could they not know they were in love?" Alex questioned his father.

He was two years older than his twin cousins, but he still couldn't grasp it. How could his grandmother- with her famed genius IQ, not realize it? And how could his grandfather- the brave, honorable man he was, not have the courage to make his feelings known for her?

Hodgins could only offer up a rueful laugh, before shaking his head. "They knew, Alex. They knew from the beginning. You see, their problem wasn't realizing it. The problem they had, was that they loved each other _too_ much."

His younger audience members shot him a confused look, but Olivia and Parker shared a knowing smile. They had heard the tale before, and had been confused as well. But that was then, and this was now. And so, as the frail old man continued his story, they listened in earnest. They knew how things turned out in the end.

**_39 years ago…_**

This seemed entirely too much like a double-date, Brennan decided, and that's why her stomach was flopping around anxiously.

After lunch, Booth had left to go see Parker, and Brennan had been on her own. Sure, he had invited her to come- but she had declined, telling him she had things to do. The truth was, she didn't want to impose.

So, Brennan had gone back to her apartment, unpacked, and taken a long, hot bath. But she didn't enjoy herself too long, before her cell phone rang- the ring tone indicating that it was Angela who was calling her. Brennan scrambled out of the tub, wrapped her towel around herself quickly, and flipped open her phone.

"Bren-"

"Sweetie!" screeched Angela over the phone, cutting off her friend. "Oh, it's so wonderful to hear your voice. How was Maluku? Have you seen the others yet? How is Booth? Did you-"

"Ange," Brennan laughed, trying to calm Angela down. "You're going too fast. One question at a time."

Her friend just giggled, before speaking a little slower. "Sorry, Bren. I'm just really excited to see you. So is Jack. We have… a big surprise. Do you think you and Booth could meet us for dinner at 7 o'clock, at the Founding Fathers?"

Brennan hesitated, and chewed on her lip thoughtfully.

Angela sensed her hesitation over the phone, and added, "If you don't want to call Booth because you think it'll be awkward, that's fine, sweetie. But he's coming. Hodgins wants him there, too. It's big news."

"Will Cam and Sweets be there?" Brennan asked, still avoiding the topic of Booth.

"They're joining us for drinks later on. Cam's got some loose ends to tie up at the lab, and Sweets is having dinner with Daisy. He says he's going to officially break it off, but I doubt he'll have the balls to tell her. You know how Daisy can be-"

"More than anyone," Brennan muttered under her breath irritably.

"Oh, right, I forgot. How did that go? You know what, you can just tell us tonight. Dinner at seven?"

Brennan smiled, and laughed into the phone, "Of course. I'll see you there. And don't worry- I'll tell Booth."

* * *

She felt like a brownnoser- which was a complete figure of speech, of course- for interrupting Booth's afternoon with his son. In fact, she felt selfish. She wasn't the only one who had worried about Booth for a year- Parker deserved some time alone with his father.

But she had told Angela she'd tell him. And when his phone went straight to voicemail, she knew where to find him. Brennan sighed as she shut her car door, and walked down to the carousel. It took her less than a second to find Parker, on his favorite horse. Immediately afterward, she saw Booth- a large grin intact as he proudly watched his son.

She felt out-of-place as she watched from afar; this was a family thing, and she was intruding on it.

But she found herself smiling as Parker got off the horse, and met his father by the bench. Booth handed him an ice cream cone, and the two Booth boys sat contentedly- both smiling broadly and laughing.

Brennan watched them for a few moments longer, before turning and walking away. She didn't belong here- in their intimate family moment. So she walked through the parking lot until she found his truck, and wrote him a note, telling him what time to be at the Founding Fathers, and that Angela and Hodgins had 'big news'. She tucked it underneath his windshield wiper, and simply walked away.

She couldn't help but be a little jealous of Booth. Although small, and slightly dysfunctional; he and Parker were a tiny little family, filled with love. She had always wanted that for herself one day, but knew it simply wasn't possible. The only person she could picture herself staying committed to was Booth. And he had made it clear on that night- he had given up on her, and was moving on. Since she had denied him, it was only fair that she let him do just that.

A wave of loneliness washed over Brennan, and she sighed unhappily. She decided, as she crawled into her car, that she was doomed to be lonely for the rest of her life.

She was just about to pull out of the parking lot, when she heard her phone ring.

"Brennan."

"What the heck, Bones? Parker saw you walking away from the carousel. Didn't want to come say hi?"

Brennan smiled ruefully, and stopped her car. She took a second to marvel at the irony, before answering him. "It's not that. It looked like you were having a family moment, so I didn't want to interrupt. I left you a note on your windshield-"

"Yeah, I see that now," he said in a muffled voice. She turned around and saw him standing beside his truck. "Since when do you think you're not welcome when I'm with Parks? He views you as part of the family. Or, whatever we are."

Her heart wrenched, and she bit her lip as she cut the engine, and got out of her car. She hung up, and smiled as Parker caught sight of her and ran over.

"Dr. Bones!" he yelled, arms outstretched as he collided with her; his tiny arms wrapping around her.

Brennan laughed as she held him, and glanced up at Booth with twinkling eyes.

Okay. She felt a little less lonely, now.

"I missed you while you were gone," Parker said innocently, before looking up at her and smiling happily- chocolate ice cream smeared around the edges of his mouth. "Did you miss me, too?"

"Of course, Parker," she chuckled, before ruffling his curly hair and standing upright.

"Parks, remember your present?" Booth asked quietly.

Parker's eyes widened, and he stuffed his hand into his pocket. "This is for you," he said proudly, after retrieving a slightly smashed flower from his pocket. "It's a daffodil. Dad told me they were your favorites, and that I should pick it for you, because all pretty girls deserve pretty flowers."

Brennan blushed, and picked up the crumpled flower delicately, before bending down and kissing Parker on the forehead. "Thank you, Parker. That's very sweet of you."

He beamed up at her, and in that moment, she forgot how lonely she had felt only moments before.

* * *

Hours later, and she was in the passenger seat of Booth's truck. She had ended up spending the entire afternoon with him and Parker, and her mood had improved greatly as a result.

"I wonder what Angela's big surprise is," she wondered aloud as Booth held open the door of the Founding Fathers for her.

"I'll bet anything she's pregnant," he murmured.

"What?" Brennan exclaimed, whirling to face him. "Did she tell you that?"

"No," he said nonchalantly as they followed the waitress to their table. "I have my reasons for thinking Angela will walk in with a baby bump."

"Oh. So, you're guessing."

"It's a gut feeling, Bones," he explained as he settled in the booth across from her. "Ange and Hodgins were just married- and went to Paris, the city of love, for a year. Obviously they had a lot of… well, you know. They're in love, and ready to start a family."

Brennan cleared her throat, and opened the menu before finally responding. "Although, rationally speaking you are just making a guess… I've come to accept that your 'gut' is surprisingly accurate. At times," she added, making sure not to give him too much credit.

Booth smiled at her, and nodded. "Thank you, Bones."

She smiled at him briefly, before returning her attention to her menu. The silence didn't last long, before they heard a squeal.

"Sweetie!" Brennan whirled around, and stared at her best friend with a stunned expression on her face.

Angela was glowing; her smile wide and head held high as she slowly made her way over to the booth. Hodgins was smiling proudly, holding her arm and gently guiding her through the crowd of people.

"I believe this is a good time to say 'I told you so'," Booth whispered triumphantly, before getting up and greeting the happy couple. Brennan was still in shock, and couldn't take her eyes off of Angela's bulging stomach.

"Hodgins, congratulations," Booth said with a warm smile, as he shook the shorter man's hand. "You're a lucky man."

He turned and looked at Angela, a huge grin on his face as he took her hands and laughed a little. "Look at you, you're glowing!"

She blushed a little, but her focus was more on Brennan, who was now glancing around awkwardly.

"Bren," she said quickly, snapping her friend out of her daze long enough to get her attention. "I haven't seen you in a _year_. I don't care if I embarrass you- get your ass over here and give me a hug."

Brennan shot her a strained smile, and then walked over and gave her a tentative side hug. "I would hug you properly," Brennan said quickly, "But I find that your stomach sticks out too far for me to-"

"It's okay, sweetie," Angela chuckled.

"Ange, honey, let's sit down," Hodgins suggested softly, his eyes still twinkling as he helped her slide into the booth. She complied; never letting go of his hand as she got comfortable.

Brennan glanced at the remaining booth warily- realizing she'd have to share it with Booth. Not that she minded… but she was so used to sitting _across_ from him, that anything else seemed odd to her.

"You want the inside, or outside Bones?" Booth murmured, his hand against the small of her back.

She didn't answer him, and instead moved to sit down first. He slid in behind her, and smiled as Hodgins flagged down the waitress.

"So, you obviously know what the big news is," Angela began, before patting her stomach gently.

"How far along are you?" Brennan asked automatically, though her eyes never left Booth.

Before Angela could even answer, Hodgins blurted, "Eight months, two weeks, and three days." Booth raised his eyebrows, and Hodgins smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm just a little excited."

Angela and Booth laughed, but Brennan was silent. This was a lot for her to take in all at once, and she had to process it.

She jumped a little as she felt Booth's warm hand clasp her knee and squeeze it reassuringly, but then immediately relaxed. His gesture signaled that he had been surprised by how far along Angela was, as well. This comforted her, and she managed a smile. With Booth there to offer solace, she could face anything.

Even the fact that her best friend would be a mother in the next few weeks.

* * *

The rest of the dinner was spent catching up, and telling stories. Brennan had heard most of Booth's stories, and she herself didn't have much to say, so they mostly listened to Angela and Hodgins tell their tales of the luxurious house they rented, the exquisite food, and all their Parisian escapades.

Brennan was, for the most part, content with listening to these stories- but what she wanted to hear about the most was the baby. It fascinated her, to think that Angela was going to be a mother.

Angela suddenly gasped, and everyone glanced up at her. "She's kicking!" she said happily, before rubbing her belly lovingly.

"She?" Brennan queried. "How do you know it's a girl?"

"We don't," Hodgins said dejectedly. "Angie's just guessing. She wants it to be a surprise, so she won't let the doctor tell us the gender."

"I want a little girl," she cooed to her bulging stomach. "So I can dress her up, help her with her hair, and make her beautiful."

"That's why I'm worried," Hodgins muttered. "If she turns out half as beautiful as you, the boys won't be able to keep their hands off her."

Angela smiled at him, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Nice try, honey. But we're not going back on our deal."

"What deal?" Booth asked curiously, before clearing his throat and pushing his plate away.

"The deal we made in Paris- that he could name the baby if it was a boy, and I got to pick out the name if it was a girl," Angela explained.

"Well, what do you want to name it that's so bad?" Brennan chuckled, a bemused grin spreading across her face as she finally allowed herself to relax. Or, maybe that was just her margarita kicking in.

"Something unique, like… Kendra."

"Which sounds like the name of a prostitute," Hodgins scoffed.

"It does not!" Angela protested indignantly, her eyes glimmering.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we have company," Booth said, in hopes of deterring the argument from further development.

"Sorry I'm late," Cam said quickly, before looking pointedly at Angela. "Wow. I was going to say 'I hope I didn't miss much', but that seems really… wow. You're pregnant."

"Thank you for bringing that to my attention, sweetie," Angela said, her smile ever widening.

Cam turned her attention to Hodgins, and congratulated him. And then, she moved on to the next couple. Or, whatever they were. "Dr. Brennan, it's nice to see you survived a year with Daisy."

Brennan chuckled, "I sent her with an excavation group that worked on the edge of camp. So I didn't have to see her much."

Cam laughed a little at that, before turning to Booth. "Seeley," she murmured. "You don't know how good it is to see you alive, and back on American soil."

He smiled, and nodded at her, but he also squeezed Brennan's knee again. To show that he hadn't forgotten she was there.

"Is Sweets coming?" Angela asked.

Cam laughed a little, and said, "I doubt it. I had to run some papers by the Hoover Building, and I saw him and Daisy headed for his office… looking _very_ interested in each other, if you know what I mean."

"I _knew_ he wouldn't break up with her!" Angela exclaimed.

They ordered drinks- minus Angela, of course- and talked, and laughed. Their conversation changed often, shifting back and forth between past and present. But one thing didn't change, and Brennan was grateful for that one constant. An anchor, in this raging sea of emotions, what-ifs, and stories.

Booth's hand rested on her knee- hidden from view, and yet a steady provider of comfort.

* * *

**A/N:**** Love it? Hate it? Please let me know! It'll keep me motivated to write the next chapter. :)**

**Hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it! **


	6. Trust Building

**A/N:**** Hello again, all you wonderful and amazing people who are reading this story. :) As promised, here's a chapter that came earlier than planned- because the reviews from the last chapter really did inspire me. We get to see Sweets in this chapter! And although there isn't much fluff in this one, I hope you still enjoy. It focuses on B&B's struggle to restore normalcy- after all this time apart.**

**By the way- I want to thank all of my anonymous reviewers. Since I can't reply to your reviews... I can't thank you properly, but I want to tell you that it means a lot! You're all fantastic. :) **

* * *

Trust Building

_Present Day…_

"You were so sweet back then," Emily Booth said teasingly to her husband. "When's the last time you've given _me_ flowers?"

"What happened next?" Chelsea asked anxiously, ignoring her mother's lighthearted comments.

She had been opposed to hearing her grandparents' story at first, but this was interesting. She hadn't known that they had taken so long to get together. It intrigued her, as well- that the love they shared was so deep, and yet they both pretended it didn't exist.

Hodgins smiled warmly at her, and then the mischievous smile he was renowned for spread across his face. "Next, all of the children realized it was past their bedtime-"

"Grandpa," Little Jack groaned. "We don't _want _to go to bed. We want you to finish the story."

"It'll take more than one night," the old man admitted. "But we'll finish it. Don't you worry."

**_

* * *

_**

39 years ago…

Seeley Booth had just gotten into his truck, when his cell phone rang. Normally talking to Brennan put him in a great mood, but what she told him now made him grumpy.

Ever since he had left for Afghanistan, all Booth had wanted to do was get back to solving cases. Murder cases meant spending time with his Bones all day long- and he couldn't think of anything else he'd rather spend his time doing. Not only that, but he got paid for it.

So naturally, he was excited when she had called- eager to tell her about the new case they had. Too bad his excitement was crushed only moments later.

"What do you mean, 'evaluation'?" he practically spat, before blaring his horn at the traffic in front of him and tightening his grip on the steering wheel until is knuckles whitened.

"An evaluation is the act of ascertaining or fixing the value, or the worth of-"

"I know what it means," he grumbled. "I meant, why does Sweets think it's necessary? We're fine, right? Nothing has changed."

She hesitated over the phone, and he furrowed his brow. "Bones? You don't think we need fixing, do you?"

"Sweets is probably just looking for an excuse to see us," she offered in reply, though her voice was strained.

Booth bit his lip in indecision, but finally decided to take the bait. "Right. Of course."

An awkward silence followed, before Brennan sighed. "Well, I'll meet you in Sweets' office in ten minutes."

Booth hastily said his goodbyes, before shutting his phone with a definitive click, and groaning. So much for things going back to normal…

* * *

He flung open the door to see that Brennan had beat him there- and that Sweets was grinning at him like a twelve-year-old at Christmas.

Scratch that- a year had passed. Now, he looked _thirteen_.

"Agent Booth," Sweets greeted him, his smile widening as he gestured for Booth to have a seat.

Booth shot him an unhappy look, and then settled in next to Brennan. She smiled at him briefly, before turning her attention to the young psychologist.

"You'd better have a good reason for keeping us off our case, Sweets," Booth growled warningly.

Sweets' smiled wavered. "Wow, _harsh_. Nice to see you too, Agent Booth," he added sarcastically.

"We have a case?" Brennan questioned, suddenly losing interest in Sweets.

"Whoa, you guys can't work together yet. Not until I've re-evaluated you, and declared you suitable to continue your partnership. We'll need to go through a series of trust-building exercises, and-"

"Stop," Booth ordered. "We are fine, okay? She's still the same person- smart, pretty, rational, honest-"

"And you're still the same Booth," Sweets said. "Impatient, cocky, arrogant, and a workaholic. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, can we continue?" Booth gaped at Sweets, and then frowned. The psychologist smirked. "Great. Now that I've gotten your attention, I'd like to start with word association."

Booth snorted, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, _right_. Because, you know, that worked out so well last time."

"Although I don't openly agree with Booth," Brennan admitted, "I do find this game to be quite pointless. As is the rest of psychology-"

"Enough," Sweets sighed, his palm dragging down his face in exasperation. "Please, Dr. Brennan, just start the game."

She looked at Booth briefly, before saying, "Change."

He eyed her warily, before smiling a little bit. "Pockets."

"Empty."

Booth frowned. "Glass."

"Fragile."

Sweets, whom had been taking notes up to this point, paused. "Stop."

"Go," Brennan said, before leaning over to Booth and whispering, "I didn't know he was playing, too."

"No, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said. "I meant end the exercise. I want to question you about your choice of words."

"Here we go," Booth grumbled, throwing his head back in frustration and rolling his eyes.

"What?" Brennan asked, looking at him curiously.

"He's going to go all 'shrinky' on us, and over-analyze everything you just said."

"Agent Booth, I'm just doing my job," Sweets said defensively.

"Booth, he has a point," Brennan agreed, before putting her hand on his shoulder to calm him. He melted beneath her touch, and fought off the urge to kiss her forehead lovingly.

Brennan smiled at him, before adding, "Besides, you're being unnecessarily cranky."

Booth internally groaned, and sank back into the couch a little farther. _Way to kill the moment, Bones._

"The first word you said, Dr. Brennan, was 'change'. Why is that?" Sweets questioned, his notepad stationed nearby lest he learn something interesting.

"In actuality, the first word I ever spoke was 'mom'," she quipped, another lopsided grin spreading across her face.

"Ha, look at that Bones, you made a joke!" Booth laughed, clapping his hands once and smiling warmly at her.

Sweets was not amused. "By avoiding the question with a joke, Dr. Brennan, you subconsciously indicate that you do not want to talk about it."

Brennan sighed, and blew a piece of hair out of her face before turning to Booth. "Damn. He's good."

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan. Although, that masked compliment will not get you out of answering the question, either. Why was that the word you picked to start the game?"

"Pushy, too…" Booth mumbled nervously.

He glanced at his partner, and saw her chewing her lip in indecision. Truth was- he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer, either. Her conversation with him earlier had unnerved him. Maybe she had realized she couldn't handle pretending nothing had happened that night.

"I thought it was appropriate, given the circumstances," Brennan said carefully, her eyes downcast.

"And, what are those circumstances?" Sweets pried, picking up his pen and allowing it to hover over the notepad.

"Being away from everyone for a year, obviously," she spat. "I mean, I feel like I've been in a coma for a year- cut off from my own world. And the worst part? It was self-induced." Her voice was bitter, and she was gritting her teeth. "I regret going to Maluku, and missing out on everything here. I regret not telling Booth to stay, and preventing him from sustaining all those injuries. But most of all, I regret not…"

She trailed off, and a single tear streamed down her face.

"Regret not what?" Sweets asked anxiously.

"Bones, it's okay. You don't have to finish that sentence," Booth said soothingly, before glaring at Sweets for prying. "You can't beat yourself up over stuff that could've been. Look at me- I'm fine!"

He stood up and held out his arms out, trying to prove it to her. Anything to make her smile again.

"But you're _not_ fine," she choked out. "You think you can hide your injuries from me, but you can't, Booth! I noticed your limp, and the way you have to slowly raise your arm because the ribs beneath it were broken. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Booth's jaw dropped, and his hands fell limply to his side. "You… can tell that? Just from watching me?"

"I know you, Booth," she said ruefully. "I know how you walk, how you move, and how you are. Did you honestly think you could keep this from me? I thought partners didn't keep secrets!"

"Okay, see, _these_ kinds of unresolved conflicts are the ones that get partners separated," Sweets said, clasping his hands together and bluntly staring at the two.

Booth and Brennan both turned to glare at him, and suddenly Sweets felt like he was intruding on a private conversation. Which was stupid, of course, because _he_ was the psychologist. Still, the combined glares made him squirm a bit in his seat.

"Not that I'd separate you two… I'm just glad we're working things out. Dr. Brennan, what about your second word, 'empty'? What brought that to your mind?"

"Pockets can be empty- it was a perfectly logical segway," she huffed indignantly, clearly not wanting to discuss it further.

She shot Booth a sideways glance, as if silently begging him to get her out of this situation. Booth glanced down at his phone, and flipped it open.

"Oh, look at that, Sweets- we gotta run. They got the body out of the lake now, and they're ready for our famous forensic anthropologist to take a look-see. C'mon, Bones."

"She'll be out in a second, Agent Booth," Sweets promised, before turning to Brennan. "There's something I'd like to ask you. In private."

Booth could take a hint, and slowly edged his way out the door. It was only once the door clicked shut that Sweets turned back to Brennan, and smiled kindly at her.

"Dr. Brennan, I know there's more here than you're telling me. And I feel that you're holding back because you don't want Booth to know some of these things. Or, maybe you aren't quite ready to say them aloud."

Brennan sniffled a little bit, and nodded ever so slightly. It was all the encouragement Lance Sweets needed. He moved his hand and placed it on her wrist gently- causing her to look up in surprise.

"Tonight, when you're alone, I want you to get out a pencil, and a piece of paper. And I want you to write down all the things you're feeling, and all the emotions that are swarming your head. Then, I want you to write down why you think you're feeling that way.

"When you're done, you can crumple it up and throw it away, or burn it, flush it down the toilet- whatever you please. But if you find yourself wanting to share it; to seek help… I suggest sharing it with someone you trust very much. Other than Agent Booth, that is. Someone who won't judge you, and won't tell Booth anything. It's entirely up to you."

Brennan stared at him thoughtfully, before sighing. "How will that make me feel any better, Sweets? I don't understand."

"It may sound dumb," he admitted, "But, sometimes it helps if someone else knows what you're going through. It makes it easier to deal with the tough stuff."

Booth impatiently rapped his knuckles on the door, and the pair jumped a little.

"Coming," Sweets said quickly, before glancing at Brennan and nodding at her in dismissal.

She rose easily to her feet, and had her hand on the door when she turned back to the young psychologist. "Thank you, Sweets," she murmured, before pulling open the door and rejoining Booth.

"What did he want?" Booth asked curiously; his hand automatically moving to the small of her back as he protectively guided her through the crowded building.

Brennan gave him a sly smile, before shrugging. "Oh, you know. Just checking up on me after my little outburst."

Booth frowned- he didn't like being kept in the dark. But her voice was back to normal, and she didn't seem upset anymore. So he kept his nose out of her business, and accompanied her on the elevator.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked soothingly.

Brennan smiled a little, and shook her head. "Maybe someday, but not now. Right now- we've got more important things to deal with."

He wanted to tell her that nothing was more important to him than her, but then he saw that look on her face. Her jaw set, her eyes glistening… she was ready to track down a murderer. And so, he hardened his demeanor and followed her out of the elevator. Work came first, that was something he felt would never change.

Booth sighed as he opened the door for her, and they made their way to his SUV. This wasn't the first time he found himself wishing that that wasn't entirely true.

* * *

**A/N:**** I was really nervous about posting this chapter, because I'm not sure if I captured Sweets' personality correctly. But next chapter, we'll see what Brennan writes, and who she gives it to. (Though I'm sure you can guess who..) Please don't forget to let me know what you think of this chapter! :) That's right- please review! **


	7. The Letter

**A/N****: This chapter is pretty short, so my apologies. Thanks to everyone who reviewed- you all made my day. :)**

* * *

The Letter

_39 years ago…_

Lance Sweets walked into his office the next morning, and found a letter sitting on his desk. Puzzled, he picked it up carefully and looked for a return address. When he didn't see one, Sweets sat down and opened the letter. As soon as he saw the beautiful, neat handwriting- he knew who it was from.

_As I begin writing this… the first thing I feel is foolish. I put no stock in psychology- so why give it credence by attempting to use its methods? But, I digress. In the hopes that I will feel better after writing, I will humor you. And I will be completely serious from here on out. No more cracks about how worthless I view psychology to be._

_Lonely… Why do I feel so damn lonely? I've been single the majority of my life, so I suppose I've always felt lonely, on a certain level. But ever since my departure for the Maluku Islands… The feeling has been amplified. To the point where my heart is aching. Metaphorically, of course. I can't stand the thought of being alone another day. But I don't have the strength to make the change he requires._

_Weak. Not physically, but emotionally. I feel like every time I try to reach out, it's a wasted effort, because no one is there for me to cling to. Again, metaphorically. Is it necessary for me to keep stating that? Well, hopefully you'll know what I mean. _

_Sadness… overwhelming sadness. I know I can't be the woman he needs me to be, and that makes me want to cry. He wants someone who will marry him, and give him many children, and I'm not sure I can commit to that. I want to… but I don't know if I can change. Not even for him. I want to… so badly. But the fact that I can't control what might happen scares me. A lot more than it should._

_Fear. Irrational fear, mind you- but fear nonetheless. I'm scared of all the change occurring around me. Booth's injuries that he didn't tell me about. The fact that Angela will be a mother within the next month. Things are changing too quickly for me, and I feel so lost. I envy everyone for their ability to cope. I'm the one preaching about evolution all the time- so why the hell can't I take my own advice and adapt?_

_That's another one- jealousy. I'm mostly jealous of Angela, because she has found happiness with Hodgins. I'm jealous of you, for having Daisy. I'm jealous of Cam for having Michelle, and Paul. Who do I have? Russ doesn't count- he has Amy, and the girls. My father? Should I allow myself to even grow attached to him? He left once before, and scientifically speaking he will probably die soon. Besides… that's not the type of relationship I want. I want someone to depend on me- to need me to get through the day. _

_More than anything else, Sweets, I feel anger. Pure, raw, debilitating anger. I'm angry because Angela has the life I wish I could have. Angry that I'm losing my ability to compartmentalize effectively. Angry that all of these stupid, frivolous, meaningless things makes me angry. But most of all, I'm angry about that night. _

_I told you about it, remember? Well, I'm angry with you for taunting Booth into taking that gamble. I'm infuriated that you meddled in our business, and screwed up everything. I'm seething because Booth listened to you, and asked me to change when he knew I couldn't. I loathe him for giving up on me so easily, and making me cry, and telling me that he was going to move on. I'm furious he didn't try harder. And yet… my love for him overcomes it all. I can't comprehend it. It's irrational- for me to love him so much it hurts._

_I know this is technically not considered an emotion… but I'm tired, Sweets. Not physically, but emotionally exhausted. Tired of losing the people I've become attached to. Tired of being alone. _

_Lastly… hate. I hate myself for breaking his heart. I hate myself for not being able to change for him. _

_You have to understand, Sweets. I did it for him. I told him no, because I had to protect him. If he sees who I really am… he'll be disgusted. And I'll lose him, just like I've lost everyone else I love. I don't deserve him. And he deserves so much more than I can offer. So in actuality… I did him a favor. Right?_

_I started this with no intention of showing anyone. But, I lay my trust in you that you will keep this to yourself. I'm not ready to explain myself to Booth._

_Oh, and Sweets? Thank you. I feel marginally better. Although, I still firmly hold to my opinion that psychology is a soft science._

_-Brennan_

Sweets folded the note carefully, and stared at it in awe. First of all, he was touched she had chosen to share this with him.

Second, he had never expected her to even attempt what he had suggested. She didn't put much stock in psychology, after all. But this confession was so full of emotion, that it blew him away. Here he had thought he knew her.

Sweets had a feeling that there was so much more to Temperance Brennan, and that he had just barely begun to scratch the surface.

_

* * *

_

Present Day…

"Okay, it is definitely time for bed now," Nate Hodgins said sternly.

The twins looked up at him with pleading eyes, and he softened a bit.

"Daddy, can we _please_ hear one more story?" Little Jack asked sweetly, before fluttering his eyelashes for good measure.

"Oh, I guess one more-"

"No," Olivia laughed, before looking at her husband disapprovingly for cracking. "You all have been through a lot today. You need your sleep. Grandpa Jack can continue the story tomorrow."

"That's right," Hodgins agreed, his eyes drooping shut from exhaustion.

"You can all stay here for the night, if you'd like," Parker offered. "There's plenty of room for you all in the guest bedrooms."

Olivia hesitated, but then glanced at the clock. "Well… just for tonight. Are you sure we won't be imposing?"

"Not at all," Emily said, smiling warmly. "Besides, Chelsea and Alex would like the company."

"Then that settles it," Jack muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "This story will pick back up tomorrow morning."

* * *

**A/N****: Hopefully this didn't sound too OOC for Brennan, but I do think that after a year away from everyone, she'll have had a lot of time to figure out her emotions. Still, it would be great to get some feedback on that. The next chapter is nearly finished, so it shouldn't be too long of a wait for it to be posted. **

**(Insert creative way to beg for reviews here!)**


	8. Left Behind

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Made my day. This is a short chapter from Present Day Hodgins' point of view, and doesn't have any flashbacks. But if you review and let me know what you think, the next chapter will be interesting... and fluffy. :)**

* * *

Left Behind

_Present Day…_

Jack Hodgins was awake before anyone else. He had been unable to sleep- insomnia plaguing him since the death of his Angela.

He rolled out of the guest bed wearily, and stared at his wheelchair that was stationed beside it. It would take him two steps to slide into the wheelchair. He braced himself. Despite the short distance, it was agonizing. His stiff legs threatened to give out on him, and he sucked in his breath as he collapsed into the wheelchair.

Stubborn as usual, he refused to ask anyone for help. They would try to put him in a nursing home, and the idea infuriated him to no end. He was lucid- it was his legs that had gone bad, not his mind.

When walking had become too painful for him to bear, he had resorted to a wheelchair. At least he was still _somewhat_ independent.

Once settled into his chair, Hodgins dug into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. He took a picture out of it, and wistfully let his tired eyes graze over the familiar faces. It had been taken at the lab sometime after Nate was born. Angela was beaming into the camera, her hair feathering around her face as she held the toddler at her hip. He was standing next to her, his arm slung around her waist as she leaned into him.

Hodgins closed his eyes slowly. God, he missed her.

His eyes shifted past his own family, and moved on to Cam. She was smiling coyly at the camera, looking quite proud of herself as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend, Paul. Hodgins sighed at the sight of her. She was gone as well- lung cancer getting the better of her a while ago.

Booth and Brennan came next, along with Parker. Hodgins smiled at the sight of them. They had been a newly announced couple by then, he was certain, because Booth stood behind Brennan, with his arms hanging loosely around her waist. Brennan was smiling contently, her neck swiveled around so she was planting a kiss on his cheek. Parker stood beside them, tugging on his father's sleeve and making a face at Brennan's kiss. Booth was laughing at something; either the kiss, or the fact that Parker was grossed out by it.

And then, there was Sweets. With his baby-faced appearance, he was looking at the others with a distinct look of satisfaction. Sweets had considered them his family- all of them. So, to see them happy… made him exuberant. Hodgins glanced at the picture one last time, before sighing. Sweets had died of a heart attack, only a year ago.

The picture seemed to include the entire family, or so one might think. But there was one person missing from the picture. The one of them that had lost it- or, so he had led them all to believe.

"You should have told us, Zach," Hodgins murmured sadly, before placing the picture safely back in his wallet. "We would have understood."

Hodgins quietly opened the door to the guest room, and wheeled himself down the hallway, to the kitchen. No one would have guessed he would be the last one to survive. And in truth, it left him feeling lonely.

He rolled over to the table, and waited for everyone else to wake up. As he did, he closed his eyes. He was the only one left. And he didn't know how much longer he could hold on.

"Grandpa?" cooed a tiny voice from across the kitchen.

Hodgins slowly glanced up to see Josie, rubbing her eyes tiredly and yawning.

"Good morning," he said softly, before motioning her over.

She hugged him, before sliding into the chair next to him and smiling. "Grandpa, can you finish the story now?"

His mouth curved up at the corners, as he told her they'd have to wait for the other kids to wake up. And it was then he realized. He _had_ to hold on- just for a little bit longer. It wasn't just Booth and Brennan's story that needed to be told.

It was his, and Angela's. It was Cam, Sweets, and Zack's story.

They had left him behind with the task of telling it. They all deserved to be heard. Hodgins smiled at his granddaughter, and made a silent pact to those who had passed on before him. Somehow, he would find the strength to live on, until their story was finished.

* * *

Silverware clinked pleasantly against ceramic plates as the mourning family ate their pancakes in silence. Emily Booth watched them, her arms wrapped around her torso protectively as she leaned against the counter.

She was eager to hear the story, as well. She hadn't known her husband's parents as well as everyone else, because she hadn't grown up with them. But she had known them long enough to know they were both amazing people. Although, it didn't take anyone very long to figure that out.

"Coffee?" her husband asked, sliding her a mug across the counter, and then standing next to her.

Emily smiled at him morosely, and gladly accepted it. He brushed her light brown hair out of her face, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Thanks," she muttered, before continuing her vigil.

No one spoke for a while- waiting on Hodgins to pick up the story where he had left off. But he seemed oblivious to the eager glances he was receiving, and only looked up when Little Jack impatiently cleared his throat.

"Grandpa, do you think you could hurry up and tell the story already? I kinda need to go to the bathroom, but I don't want to miss the beginning."

Hodgins craftily hid his smirk by dabbing his napkin along his lips, before looking at his grandson. "When I've finished my pancakes, boy. It's rude to speak with your mouth full, after all. By all means, go pee. I'll wait for you to start the story."

The little boy nodded seriously, his red curls bouncing as he leapt from his chair and made a bee-line dash to the bathroom. Little Jack was back in less than a minute, scrambling into his chair and looking at his grandfather expectantly. Much to his dismay, Hodgins was still picking at his plate.

"Dad," Nate intervened, seeing how the children were fidgeting with impatience. "You should probably start the story again."

Hodgins glanced up, slightly irritated. "Can't you see I'm eating, son?"

"I'm sure they won't mind you talking with your mouth full," added Olivia, her hand resting on Nate's arm.

Hodgins looked at the children, who all shot him an encouraging smile. He cleared his throat, and pushed his plate aside. "Right. Where was I?"

"Grandma Tempe left that nice psychologist a note, telling him 'bout her feelings," Little Jack blurted, his eyes twinkling excitedly.

Hodgins smirked a little at the boy's enthusiasm, and chuckled, before picking up where he had left off.

* * *

**A/N****: I know it wasn't much, but if you wouldn't mind- take a second and let me know what you think. That'll bring you one step closer to the next fluffy chapter. **


	9. Undercover

**A/N: You amazing people continue to make me smile with your thoughtful, lovely reviews. Thank you. :) I know this chapter came later than expected, but I'm afraid that's how it's going to be from now until... well, next summer. ;) If this story is even around that long. Which, hopefully it is. I have tons of ideas, so I guess it depends on the amount of interest in the story as to how long it'll go. My goal is 500 reviews. I doubt that'll happen, but hey- _Nothing happens unless first, a dream..._ **

**Cheesiness aside; expect updates to be anywhere up to 2 weeks apart. Sorry for the inconveiniance. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

Undercover

**_39 years ago…_**

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Brennan stated as she set her duffel bag down on the cheap motel bed. "I mean, why do we have to go undercover? This guy doesn't seem too dangerous."

"He's a hit man, Bones!" Booth exclaimed incredulously, as he shut the door behind him. "Murder is his business. How does that not qualify as dangerous?"

Brennan appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Rationally speaking… murder is our business as well. Do you think _I _am dangerous?"

Booth was taken aback, and sputtered out, "What? No. I mean, that's not the same thing-"

"Donovan Cline profits from murders; as do we. If the killing stops, we're out of money. Well, not me... just you. Since I'm a renowned author-"

"I know," Booth groaned, the palm of his hand dragging down his face. "But there's a difference. The difference is who does the killing- and who does the catching."

Brennan was silent, conceding defeat in this argument. Booth would have relished his triumph, but he was instead glancing around the room.

"Booth, you never answered my question directly. Do you think I'm dangerous?"

"There's only one bed," he said in disbelief, his hand rubbing his stubbly chin.

"An astute observation on your behalf, Agent Booth," Brennan scoffed, becoming annoyed that he was still avoiding the question. "Any particular reason you won't answer me?"

Booth looked at her, surprised at her harsh tone of voice. "Dangerous? Yes. Capable of cold-blooded murder? Not a chance in hell. You're a strong woman, Bones, but you're no sociopath."

She smiled softly, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Booth."

He flashed her his charming smile, before glancing at the clock. "It's getting late, Bones. We have to meet Cline early in the morning, so we should get some shut-eye."

"But, what about the bed situation?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and hiding a smirk.

"Throw me a pillow, and I'll be fine," Booth said quickly, before laying down on the threadbare carpeting and letting out a huge sigh.

Brennan hesitantly tossed him a pillow, but continued staring at him. Booth laid on his back, with his arms folded behind his head; pretending to be asleep. But he could feel her watching him, the entire time. After a few minutes, he cracked open one eye.

"Any particular reason you're staring at me like that, Bones?"

"That floor must be very uncomfortable. The carpet is basically non-existent, and the concrete underneath is probably very hard, and cold."

"Yeah, well I wish this was the _worst_ thing I had slept on," he grumbled, before rolling over onto his side and trying to fall asleep again. Brennan hesitated for a moment, before sighing.

"Booth?"

"What is it, Bones?" he mumbled, his voice muffled.

"That floor cannot be good for your back."

"It doesn't appear I have another option," he groaned, before flipping over and shooting her a mischievous look. "Unless you think the bathtub would be more comfortable."

"Don't bother- it's only a shower stall."

"It was sarcasm anyway, Bones. Now go to sleep. I'll be fine-"

"Booth, your back has to be in peak condition if we're going to take down a hit man tomorrow. Let me sleep on the floor. You can have the bed."

"Are you _kidding_ me, Bones?" Booth snapped as he rolled back over to face her. "What kind of man makes a woman sleep on the floor, just so his back doesn't ache a little the next day?"

Brennan smirked a little, despite herself. "The kind of man who expects to catch the murderer in the morning."

"Bones, you know what I really need? Peace. Peace and _quiet_. Do you think you could do that for me?"

"It's irrational to request peace from me- because absolute peace is unimaginable, and highly improbable, especially-"

"It's an expression, Bones," he muttered, becoming frustrated. "It means I would like to go to sleep now."

"Oh. Well… goodnight."

"G'night, Bones," he murmured, before rolling back over and sighing in relief.

Brennan let her gaze linger on him for a moment longer, before guiltily laying down on the bed again and staring at the ceiling. The silence lasted for about seven minutes, before Brennan finally broke it by sucking in her breath.

"Booth?"

The man in question, who had been mere seconds from falling into a deep sleep, groaned audibly. "What _now_, Bones?"

"This is stupid. And childish."

He rolled back over and squinted at her. "Huh? What is?"

"We're not children," she huffed. "We're calm, intelligent adults who are capable of sharing a bed with someone while restraining their sexual needs."

Booth's eyebrows rose, and he stiffened slightly at her words. "What- you want to share the bed?"

"It seems to be the only solution I can find, that kills two birds with one stick."

"Stone," he corrected softly, as an automatic reflex. "Kill two birds with one _stone_. Are you sure?"

"Of course," she said sincerely, before wriggling over to the side of the bed to allow room for Booth.

He hesitated; taking his time to fluff his pillow before loosening his tie and laying it on the floor. "My dress pants are gonna get wrinkled," he protested, but Brennan shot him an exasperated look.

"Adults, remember?"

"Right," he sighed, before pulling back the covers and climbing in.

"Goodnight, Booth," Brennan sighed contentedly, before rolling away from him so her back was turned.

"G'night. And hey, Bones? Thanks."

She sighed contentedly in response, and Booth smiled, before also turning his back so they were facing opposite ways. He was torn internally- part of him was happy that she felt comfortable enough to share a bed with him. The other part was sad, because this hadn't been the way he had imagined sharing a bed with her for the first time.

* * *

Booth woke suddenly from his deep slumber, to feel Brennan thrashing beside him. He rolled over to see what was wrong, and knew his answer immediately. Her face was pinched up in either fear or disgust- maybe both. She was whimpering softly, and had broken into a cold sweat.

Booth's heart melted. She had told him she had nightmares. He had naturally assumed they went away with the acquittal of the Gravedigger, but apparently he had been wrong.

"Bones," he whispered, before putting a calming hand on her arm. "Bones, you're having a nightmare. Wake up."

Her face slackened as he touched her, and she stopped thrashing. She mumbled something incoherent, and then rolled over and snuggled close to him. Booth stiffened immediately, before letting out a shuddering breath as she burrowed her head into the crook of his neck, and grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt in her hands. The smell of her shampoo permeated his nostrils, and Booth had to bite his lip to assure himself he wasn't dreaming.

When blood began to ooze from his lip, Booth was finally convinced that this was real. He breathed in slowly, and tenderly kissed her on her temple. Then, he draped his arm over her in a protective way and smiled sadly. So much for being able to stay on their own sides of the bed.

* * *

Brennan's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled pleasantly. She was so warm, and comfortable. She also smelled something familiar- a mix of coffee, leather, and Old Spice.

_Booth? _

Brennan lifted her head, finally coming to her senses as she blinked repeatedly. The events of the night before rushed at her all at once, and she stiffened in terror. Her hands, which were tightly grasping his dress shirt, slowly let go as she pulled them to her chest. They were proof that she had clung to him- literally, throughout the night.

It was then she realized his arm was curled around her, gently holding her close as he slept peacefully. Unshed tears burned her eyes, as she carefully rolled out from beneath him and blinked at the sunlight that was streaming through the grimy window. She silently rose from the bed, and went to her bag. And then, without waking Booth, she crept to the bathroom and began getting ready for the day.

She was completely unaware of the two chocolate-colored eyes that watched her as she stepped out of view.

Booth sat up, and rubbed his eyes groggily. He hadn't really gotten much sleep since her nightmare had passed. Most of the night he had spent just watching her- and relishing the time he had with her in his arms. He knew it really didn't count; she wasn't coherent when she had snuggled closer to him. But still… it was all he had. For the time being, anyway.

"Good morning," Brennan said softly, as she strolled out of the bathroom some time later, wearing a skimpy purple dress, that shimmered in the dim lighting and clung to her every curve. Her hair was curled around her face, and she had on a little too much makeup. But then again, she was playing the part of a mistress, so she needed to be extra done up.

"Good morning," Booth said, trying to keep his eyes trained on hers, instead of allowing them to wander south. "Did you sleep well?"

Brennan felt her cheeks flush, as she nodded. "Yes. How do I look?"

Booth rose from the bed, as she turned so he could zip her dress. He swooped her hair aside, and slowly pulled the zipper up. "Fantastic. Definitely look like a heartbreaking home wrecker." She frowned, and Booth peeked around at her, a charm smile playing on his lips. "Lighten up, Bones. I'm only joking. You look beautiful."

"You had better go get dressed," she said quickly, before the conversation spiraled out of control with more compliments that made her weak in the knees. "You don't exactly look like a man who wants to kill his wife so he can live with his mistress. We have to be convincing, _Ken_."

Booth was startled by the use of his fake name, but quickly obeyed her and grabbed his bag.

When they exited the cheap motel, his hand was slightly lower on her hip than usual, and she was pressed up closer to him than she normally would have dared. He possessively guided her through the milling crowd of pedestrians, and she allowed her lips to brush his ear lobe seductively while whispering a snippet of information to him.

Neither of them thought twice about it. Because, really, they were Kenneth James, and Faye Allen the moment they had dressed the part.

Booth and Brennan were no longer there, and the thin, deteriorating line evaporated with them.

_

* * *

_

Present Day…

"They went undercover? That is _so_ intense!" Alex said excitedly. "Did they catch him?"

"Of course _we_ caught them!" Hodgins scoffed. "You know, your grandparents couldn't have done it alone. Not without the help of the rest of us. I handled particulates, Sweets did the profiling, Cam dealt with flesh, and Angie… she gave the victims their faces back. We were a team. No, not just a team- we were a _family_."

"What are particulates?" Josie asked innocently, her nose scrunched up in confusion.

"It's dirt," Little Jack announced proudly.

Hodgins sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. "Little Jack, what did I tell you about that _word_?"

The boy in question muffled his giggles. "It's a generic, non-specific term used by morons who don't know any better. Right, I forgot. Can you continue the story please?"

Hodgins eyed him with mock irritation, before conceding defeat and chuckling softly. "Of course. We'll skip forward a little bit, to something that occurred a couple of weeks later."

* * *

**A/N: There you have it! :) I told you it was somewhat fluffy. I honestly don't know when the next chapter will be posted- it could be a while. But if you want to make my day despite that fact, please review! I can't even begin to describe to you how important they are to me- or to any writer, for that matter. :)**


	10. Late Night Therapy

**A/N: Aww, decrease in reviews last chapter. :( But, that's okay. A lot more story alerts and favorites, so I know you all are still reading! **

**Did you think I had forgotten you, or this story? Nah- but do expect updates to be few and far in between. I'm taking a few college level classes, so between sports and homework, I have not had much time for our favorite crime-fighting duo. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one. This one's pretty light on the angst, but I can't say the same for the next chapter.**

* * *

Late Night Therapy

**_39 years ago…_**

Brennan sat on her couch, her brow furrowed as she stared at the blank white screen of her laptop. The empty document seemed to mock her, as the cursor blinked at her in a taunting manner.

Their last case had been especially brutal, and she was exhausted. Ever since that night, when Booth had broken her heart by making her break his, her ability to compartmentalize had gone downhill. Everything made her tired, and sad.

Brennan sighed, and shut her laptop; thoroughly annoyed she had wasted nearly an hour and had accomplished nothing. It was becoming a routine for her. And although normally she liked routines… this one was driving her insane.

She crawled back onto the couch and sighed, tucking her knees up to her chin. What she was lacking, was some sort of inspiration. And until she found some, her publishers were going to be very, _very_ unhappy with her.

A gentle rapping at her door jolted Brennan from her insecure position, as she rose from her couch and smoothed out her blouse, before glancing at the clock. No one should be visiting this late. Except… Her heart suddenly fluttered a bit, for some reason beyond her understanding, but she brushed it off and eased the door open anyway.

"Booth?" she said, trying to sound surprised as she brushed a stubborn lock of hair behind her ear. "What are you doing here?"

He peeked around at her from behind the mountain of food cartons he was carrying, and shot her a cheeky grin. "You really can't tell?"

Brennan smiled a little, before clearing her throat and moving aside to accommodate him.

"I was just in the neighborhood, y'know… passed Wong Foo's, and thought of you. I knew you probably hadn't eaten yet, so I had to remedy that situation," Booth said, an amused look on his face as he put the food cartons on her coffee table.

He proceeded to plop down on her couch- as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

"Booth, it's after midnight. And Wong Foo's is across town. There is no way you could passed it, and simultaneously been in my neighborhood."

His face fell a little, and Brennan immediately cursed herself for being so literal.

"I just thought… you know Bones, we used to do this all the time, after we solved cases. Especially the tough ones. Don't you remember?"

Brennan wrapped her arms around herself protectively, and nodded. "Yes. I wasn't saying that I didn't want your company, Booth- I was merely making an observation. I appreciate the sentiment."

"Good," Booth said, a breath of relief whooshing out of him. "Because I am _really_ looking forward to some good Thai food. Pass me the chopsticks, Bones."

She chuckled and obliged, before joining him on the couch. They were both silent for a moment, before Booth broke the stalemate.

"Y'know, having Thai isn't the only reason I decided to come by."

Brennan froze, and looked up at him with apprehension. She noticed the way his eyes had darkened slightly, and the way his nostrils flared. His jaw tightened, and his muscles tensed. She nervously put her chopsticks down and waited. She knew what these body signals meant. She recognized them all too well. He was about to take a gamble.

"Booth, I-" she began to protest, before he interrupted her.

"No, just hear me out, alright?"

She recoiled from him- his words a raw, painful reminder of the last time he had taken a gamble. Booth seemed undeterred, and continued.

"Look, Bones… I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I've decided you're right."

"About what?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Partners don't keep secrets from each other," he said seriously, his hand resting on her knee. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about… everything that happened in Afghanistan."

She hadn't meant for her sigh of relief to be so loud, and so when he gave her a funny look, she quickly coughed to cover it up. "Why would you feel like you couldn't tell me about that, Booth? We've been partners for over six years."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Bones," he explained in a softer voice. "But… I just wasn't ready to share it. It was too soon."

"And now isn't?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern for him.

He paused in hesitation, and then ignored the question altogether as he abruptly stood. "Any beer in the fridge?" he asked casually, as he walked to her kitchen area.

"Yes," she said quietly, "help yourself."

He returned with four bottles, and handed her one before settling back into the couch. Brennan eyed the remaining two extra bottles warily. This was the universal signal between them that meant they would be discussing something deep.

Booth took a swig of his beer, and then leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "It was supposed to be a routine day," he said bitterly. "I was taking my soldiers out for a little training that afternoon." Booth ran a hand through his hair, and shook his head sadly. "If we had been out of there ten minutes earlier, we might have missed 'em."

Brennan opted for silence, but her hand automatically reached for his, and she gripped it tightly as he continued.

"Insurgents attacked our post, and we were captured… and then tortured for information. We were rescued two days later, but it was too late for one of my men. It was my fault, Bones. If only-"

"Booth," she said gently, "do you remember what you told me? You told me not to blame myself over something that could have been."

His eyes were cold, and distant as he stared through her wall- not really seeing anything.

"Booth!" Brennan said sharply, finally snapping him out of his daze.

He looked up at her expectantly, and she offered him a wan smile. "It's time you start taking your own advice."

He nodded at her, but before he could reply she had jumped up from the couch and was walking over to her stereo system.

"I know what will cheer you up," she muttered, before finally finding what she was looking for.

Booth studied her curiously as she pulled out a CD and wiggled it in front of him. "Foreigner," he chuckled, a sly grin replacing his once pained expression.

"I've been told it's our song," Brennan said, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "But I'll only listen to it with you on one condition."

Booth raised a questioning eyebrow as she put it in her CD player and turned the volume up. "And what's that?"

Brennan smiled as the music began playing, and said, "Don't go near my refrigerator this time."

His face broke into a blinding charm smile, as she finally managed to coax him out of his guilt-induced slump. She surprised him by grabbing his hand and pulling him up, and off the couch. Brennan proceeded to play the air guitar, and began singing at the top of her lungs. Booth shook his head in disbelief as he watched her finally let loose, and he quickly joined her in singing.

Her melodic voice kept a wide grin on his face- this woman was a constant surprise to him. They danced around in a carefree manner- much like the night so many years ago. But this time- there was no boyfriend calling to interrupt. No refrigerator bomb rigged to explode when opened. It was just him, and her- allowing themselves to forget all of their troubles for a while, and just enjoy each other's presence.

When the final chords of 'Hot Blooded' faded out, Brennan clicked off the CD player, and grinned at Booth sheepishly.

"We should finished eating, now. The food's going to get cold."

"You've got a microwave," Booth quipped with a shrug.

She chuckled huskily, before sinking down onto her couch and resuming eating. Booth followed suit, and they were both thoughtfully silent until their food was gone, and their beer bottles were drained. Booth sighed contentedly, and leaned back into her couch.

Brennan was staring at the floor, and Booth swore he could hear the gears in her head turning as she thought about something. The worry lines that wrinkled her forehead told him it was something serious, so he kept quiet. It was best to allow her to work things through on her own, at times like these.

He tipped his head back, and rested it on the cushion of the couch. His breathing slowed as he began to doze.

Brennan- oblivious to Booth's slower breathing, finally put down her empty bottle of beer and cleared her throat. Booth jerked from his light sleep, and stretched a little before looking at her expectantly.

"Whatcha thinking 'bout, Bones?" he slurred, his sleepy expression earning a soft smile from her.

She tucked her legs beneath her, and looked at him with some unrecognizable emotion. "Do you remember our second case together?"

"The Cleo Eller case… 'course I remember," he mumbled, before shifting so that he was facing her.

She reached for the extra beer- now silently grateful he had grabbed more than two. Brennan nursed it gently, her eyes carefully avoiding his. Booth noticed her hesitation to continue, and so he prodded.

"That was six years ago, Bones. Why bring it up now?"

"Angela gave me some advice during that case. Some that I've attempted to apply to my life daily."

Booth raised an eyebrow, before teasingly whispering, "Glug glug, woohoo?"

Brennan chuckled softly, but shook her head. "That was not the advice I was referring to. Angela told me, to offer up a little bit of myself sometimes. To tell someone something I'm not quite certain I want them to know."

She shot Booth a careful glance, and was pleased to see he was listening attentively to her. Then again, he always did. Brennan took a deep breath, and then continued. "As I said, I've tried to apply this to my daily life… but mostly, I end up only sharing with you. Because I've learned that you won't judge me."

"It's good that you know that, Bones," he said softly, his hand finding her knee again and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Besides- I'm not exactly in a position to judge."

"I still have nightmares, Booth," she blurted, unable to contain herself any longer.

"About the Gravedigger?" Booth queried, concern evident in his eyes.

"At first they were, yes," Brennan said, "But after I left for Maluku, and you for Afghanistan… a different one plagued me."

She fell silent, and took a long drink of her beer. Booth followed suit, though his eyes were trained on her worried face as he waited for her to continue.

"It's the same nightmare, every night," she whispered hoarsely. "You're laying in the sand, bloodied and broken, and no one hears your cries for help. I try to reach out to you… but I'm too far away. I watch you bleed out in front of me, Booth. Almost every night-"

"Bones," he said softly, his other hand brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed. "I'm fine, alright? I'm right here. I always will be."

"You can't promise that," she reminded him, her voice catching in her throat.

"Well, then I promise I will never willingly leave you again," he said stubbornly. "And I keep my promises. Especially to you."

She nodded, before swiping at an errant tear and inching closer to Booth- her head resting on his shoulder.

"I missed this," she said softly. "Just the two of us, together. I find it… very cathartic."

He patted her knee gently, and sighed.

"Me too, Bones. Me too."

* * *

**A/N: Alright people, you know the drill. Please, _please_ review- and let me know what you think!**


	11. A Favor

**A/N: I know what you probably were thinking. "Just another story that died out short after it began..." Well, that's where you're wrong, I'm happy to say. :)**

**Some things have come up that have made getting this story finished a near impossible task, but I'm not one to leave things unfinished.  
**

**So, I hope you enjoy this. :)  
**

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A Favor

_Present Day…_

"They seemed happy," Josie sighed, her eyelashes fluttering much like her grandmother's had, once upon a time.

Hodgins shot her a bittersweet smile, and then nodded. "Yes. They were happy that night."

"Didn't last long, though," Parker said softly. His expression darkened slightly as he tried to recall the exact day. Time has a way of blurring past events, and Parker frowned as he realized how time had taken its toll on his memory.

"Why didn't it last?" Alex asked, his nose crinkling up in confusion.

"My Dad had three people in his life back then, that he loved more than anything in the world," Parker explained. "Myself, his Bones, and Pops…"

_

* * *

**39 years ago…**_

The echoed staccato of her high heels announced her presence long before she came into view. Angela glanced up cheerfully as Brennan sashayed towards her; with a confident stride only she possessed.

"Good morning, sweetie. You look flustered."

"I do not get flustered," Brennan said without batting an eye.

Angela rolled her eyes, and rose from her chair before shooting her friend an accusing look.

Brennan faltered a little, but fluidly maneuvered around Angela before casually calling over her shoulder, "Although, I am late for breakfast." Angela raised an eyebrow curiously, so Brennan elaborated as she laid a folder of case files on Angela's desk. "Booth and I are supposed to go over some case details. He was supposed to meet me here. I wanted to drop these files by before I left- our newest victim needs a face."

Angela shook her head and chuckled, before wobbling over and looking over the files. Brennan shifted slightly, her eyes never leaving her friend's bulging stomach.

"You should check your office," Angela finally said, her eyes meeting Brennan's stare. "He always naps on your couch when he's waiting for you."

"Yes, I know," Brennan stated flatly, before sighing and fidgeting a bit. "But… I wanted to check on you, Ange. Are you sure you don't want to take this last week off? Although your due date is two weeks away, your baby could come earlier than planned."

"I'm fine, sweetie," Angela said sincerely. "And to be honest, I just want to catch this guy. One less murderer on the streets is one step towards a better world for junior here." Angela patted her stomach lovingly, and Brennan smiled before excusing herself and making her way to her office.

She opened the door quietly, and tip-toed inside. He was stretched out on her couch, letting out soft snores as he slept. Brennan smiled at his sleeping form, before crouching next to him and gently nudging his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled widely at her.

"Mornin' Bones."

"Good morning, Booth," she said coolly, before rising to her feet and shaking her head at him. "How did you get into my office? It was locked."

"You're not exactly good at hiding the spare key," he retorted, before rolling his eyes and throwing it to her. "Are you ready to go?"

Brennan nodded deftly as she caught it, and so Booth grabbed his suit jacket and fell into step beside her.

* * *

The ride to the diner was relatively quiet; as were most of their early morning rides together.

The radio was playing softly, and Booth hummed along with the familiar tune as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Brennan pretended to be interested in something outside of the Sequoia, but in truth, she was enjoying listening to him hum along. Although he was a little flat, she found the way he crooned the lyrics to be quite endearing.

The moment ended much too soon, as Booth pulled into the parking lot. He quickly killed the engine, before jumping from his seat and running around the side of the SUV to open the door for Brennan. She quickly opened it on her own, and slid out of the seat before shooting him a playful glare.

This was becoming a regular game of his.

"Booth, although I appreciate the sentiment behind your acts of chivalry, I am perfectly capable of exiting a car on my own."

He grinned devilishly as he reached over her to shut the door, before offering her the crook of his elbow. She linked arms with him, and chuckled as they crossed the parking lot to the diner.

"I know you're capable, Bones. But it's an alpha male thing. Indulge me, every now and again."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't protest as they found their seat, and ordered their coffee and food. Booth thought they had dropped the subject, so he was surprised when she sighed.

"Perhaps I will let you open the car door for me when you're having a bad day. Or, when it's raining. Is that satisfactory?"

"Geez Bones, you're so generous," Booth laughed sarcastically, before smirking. "You know, there's rain in the forecast. It must be my lucky day."

Brennan chuckled mirthfully, as their waitress approached them and handed them their orders. They discussed the case, argued about which suspect they should interrogate first, and pooled their evidence together- all over coffee, a whole wheat bagel, and a pile of pancakes that were drowning in sticky-sweet syrup.

Halfway through his next-to-last pancake, Booth's cell phone chirped to life. Brennan, deep into her explanation of the victim's injuries, didn't stop her rambling until his brow furrowed worriedly and he held his hand up to silence her.

"What happened? Is he stable?" Booth asked hoarsely, before running his hand through his hair.

Brennan felt her heart leap into her throat, and she couldn't contain her concern. "Who is it? Is it Parker? Is he okay-"

"Bones," he hissed, before plugging his ear and turning slightly away from her.

Brennan fell silent, and looked away awkwardly.

"No, really, thank you for calling me. I can be there in three minutes. Tell him I'll be there in _three_ minutes, okay?"

Booth flipped the phone shut, and pocketed it before his hands fell uselessly to his side. Brennan put her hand on his shoulder, hoping to coax him into an explanation.

"That was the hospital," he finally said, his voice surprisingly steady and calm. "Pops had a heart attack this morning, Bones. They…" Booth trailed off, and rubbed his chin with his hand absentmindedly. "They said he forgot to take his medicine."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, before getting up and striding towards the door. Shocked, Brennan slid a few bills onto the counter to cover their meal, and flounced out the door in pursuit of her distraught partner.

The darkening sky rumbled around them, and Brennan shivered as she followed him.

"Look Bones, I can drop you off at the-"

"No," she said softly, as she settled into the front seat of the SUV. "I'm coming. You shouldn't do this alone."

His smile was unconvincing, but it expressed his gratitude.

She began to ask him if he was okay to drive, but the way he nervously clenched his jaw told her that now was not an appropriate time. She instead listened to the rolling thunder, and watched Booth's knuckles tighten their grip around the steering wheel.

Her hand hovered in the air, hesitant, before finally resting on his knee in their familiar form of comfort. Without looking down, Booth let his right hand fall from the steering wheel, and clasp hers tenderly. And he continued to cling to her- the entire drive to the hospital.

When the SUV stopped and Booth got out, Brennan watched the drizzling rain as it fell, and waited patiently for him to open the door for her.

The irony of their earlier conversation was not lost on her, as she compliantly let her partner help her out of the car, and then shut the door behind her.

* * *

Brennan had always hated hospitals.

She was good with handling people who had been dead for a while- not people who were in the process of dying, and especially not grieving family members. So she stuck close to Booth; keeping her eyes on the scuffed up tile floor. Booth's pace was somewhat difficult to match, and Brennan found herself jogging to keep up with him.

When they reached the room Hank Booth was residing in, Booth whispered some sort of brief prayer, and eased open the door. Brennan followed him, desperately wishing she could offer him some sort of comfort.

"Hey Shrimp," the man wheezed from the hospital bed, before glancing at the clock and teasing his grandson. "Doc said three minutes, and it's been five. You'll be late to your own funeral!"

Booth visibly winced at the mention of funerals, and Brennan's arm snaked out to rest on his shoulder.

"How ya doin', Pops?" Booth asked, moving forward to sit on the chair next to the hospital bed.

"I've been worse. I see you brought your girlfriend along, Seeley."

Booth was about to correct him, but Brennan stepped forward and cut him off. "It's good to see you again, Hank."

Booth was silently surprised- normally she _readily_ jumped at the chance to correct people about their relationship status. He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, but she ignored him with practiced ease, and instead pulled up a chair next to them.

Booth pinched the bridge of his nose, and let his elbows rest on his knees. "How long did they give you, Pops?"

Hank sighed, his heavy-lidded eyes drooping shut. "These son-of-a-bitch doctors don't tell me anything, Seeley. They all think I've gone senile."

Booth smiled at his grandfather's tough façade, and patted his hand before rising to his feet. "I'm going to go talk to them, okay? See what I can find out." He turned to Brennan, and whispered, "Will you keep an eye on him?"

She neglected to nod, but instead shot him a small smile, before leaning closer to Hank and saying, "While Booth is gone, perhaps you could teach me the secret to playing dominoes? I'm very interested in learning your techniques."

"Sure sweetheart," Hank chuckled, before shooing Booth away. "We'll be fine, Shrimp."

Booth gave Brennan a grateful look, before pushing through the door.

"Temperance," Hank said softly, watching his son disappear down the hallway, "I'm not gonna… not gonna last too much longer. You knew that, right?"

She brushed away a defiant tear, and took his withered hand into her supple one. When she didn't reply, he let out a shuddering breath and continued. "You remember what we talked about, don't you?"

She nodded, and shifted so she was closer to the bed. "Of course, Hank. And I promise… I won't be scared."

"Good girl," he whispered. "Because he's going to need someone. Everyone needs someone."

"I know," she reminded him gently. "I keep my promises, Hank. I'll help him through this."

The door swung open silently, and Booth crept in. "Pops, I want you to hang in there, alright? Rebecca is bringing Parker to see you, and Jared and Padme are on their way."

"Shrimp," the old man protested, "I don't want Parker to see me like this. And I sure as hell don't want to see the woman who keeps him from you. Not while I'm on my deathbed."

Booth swallowed the lump in his throat and pointed at his grandfather accusingly. "Pops, I want you to stop talking like that. The doctor said that you just need to stay here for a week or two, until they can get you back on your medicine properly. He told me that you would be fine if-"

"Seeley, stop it. I'm not taking that damn medication any longer," Hank snapped, his jaw set with determination.

Booth flinched at his harsh tone, and his hands fell limp to his sides. The old man softened slightly, and sighed. "Look, Shrimp. I love you, and I couldn't be more proud of you. What you've become, and everything you've done. But I'm tired, Seeley. I can't do anything for myself anymore, much less take care of others."

He blinked slowly, methodically; and then looked to his grandson for a glimmer of understanding. When he found none, he sighed. "It's time, Shrimp. I'm ready. I just hope you'll stay with me, so I'm not alone."

Booth dragged his fingers through his hair, and nodded meekly. "Yeah, Pops. Of course we'll stay."

"Good," Hank said gruffly, before motioning him over. "Now come give me a hug, young man."

Brennan watched Booth carefully as he conversed with his grandfather. He was managing to keep himself composed, and he was even laughing a little bit while they exchanged old stories. The only thing that gave away Booth's composure was the way his shoulders were slumped.

He was being strong for others, as usual- at the expense of sidelining his own feelings.

The door burst open suddenly, and a tear-filled little boy ran straight to his great-grandfather.

"Parker!" Hank wheezed, his eyes regaining their spark for a split second. "Good to see you, my boy. Where's your mother?"

"Actually, we brought him in," announced another voice from the doorway. Jared stepped forward, and then added, "Rebecca's waiting in the hallway."

Padme walked in behind him, her eyes downcast as she awkwardly lingered in the corner of the room. Brennan sympathized with her- she also felt uncomfortable in the small hospital room, with a saddened family that didn't belong to her. But she knew that Booth needed her to be there with him. And that was enough to satisfy her.

"Mom says this is the last time I get to come visit you," Parker said solemnly, before sniffling. "She says that you're dying."

The old man comforted his great-grandson, and hugged him in his arms. Parker pulled away after a minute, and wiped at his eyes indignantly.

"Well, I told 'er she was wrong. I think you just have to go be with God now, because he needs another angel."

Hank let a few tears slide down his face, before hugging the boy for the last time and whispering something into his ear that seemed to comfort him. Parker nodded, and left the room to rejoin his mother in the hallway. Booth had agreed with Rebecca that Parker did not need to be in the room when his great-grandfather passed away.

"Seeley, you and Tempe can take a break. We'll stay with him for a while," Jared whispered.

Booth hesitated, but then shot Jared an appreciative smile and ducked out of the room. Brennan walked beside him, but kept her eyes on the floor due to her slight discomfort.

"Thanks for being here, Bones," he finally said, his voice a lot stronger and confident than she had expected.

She studied him carefully for a moment- trying to gauge his emotions. But she had never been good with that sort of thing, so she gave it up and instead smiled.

They made their way to the cafeteria, and settled into a small booth. They ordered nothing, and instead just enjoyed the silence of the large room. Brennan fiddled with a salt shaker for a moment, before sighing and deciding it was time to tell him.

She had to wonder how he would react, and if this was the best time to tell him at all.

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**A/N: There you have it. Personally, I don't think it's my strongest chapter, but the plot gets moving from here on out. It's going to get worse before it gets better, dear readers, but the end result will be worth it all. I hope you enjoyed this. :) Please let me know your thoughts through a review. It would make my day. :)**


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